Crossfire
by dark-nexus17
Summary: An End!Verse fic, in which Castiel and Dean try to survive being torn apart by the war and the apocalypse and all the other things in their lives, taking shelter in the only solid thing they have left.


**Title: Crossfire**

**Pairings: Dean/Castiel **

**Warnings: Cursing. Sexy times. Angst. Mentions of mental health conditions. Drug and alcohol abuse. Depressing thoughts. This is endverse people, it ain't sunshine and rainbows. There is however, sweetness and fluff towards the end.**

**Summary: Everyday feels the same. An endless struggle for survival, making the days bleed into each other, merging and twisting until it's all the same. How they've managed to survive this long God knows. And isn't **_**that**_** a funny expression. Dean wishes he could find God, and give him a piece of his God damn mind, but he and Cas have been wishing the same thing, praying the same god forsaken prayer for years now, like a broken record.**

**An End!Verse fic, in which Castiel and Dean try to survive being torn apart by the war and the apocalypse and all the other things in their lives, taking shelter in the only solid thing they have left. **

**As usual, all mistakes are my own.**

**Also on tumblr and AO3**

Everyday feels the same. An endless struggle for survival, making the days bleed into each other, merging and twisting until it's all the same. They wake up, they run the camp, fight, fuck, plan to kill the devil and sleep. Same thing, day in, day out. And Dean is fucking sick of it. As if they hadn't already gone through enough shit, now he and Cas and _his brother, _he thinks with a repressed shudder, are confined to this awful grey experience, where every day has been the same since the world got swallowed up by the Croatoan virus. How they've managed to survive this long God knows. And isn't _that_ a funny expression. Dean wishes he could find God, and give him a piece of his God damn mind, but he and Cas have been wishing the same thing, praying the same god forsaken prayer, for years now, like a broken record. It wears on the soul.

"Dean."

Cas' familiar voice draws him from his dark musings and back into himself, who he's supposed to be: Camp Leader, Michael's long-forgotten Vessel, the Righteous Man, the famous Dean Winchester. He chuckles darkly.

"Well I'm glad you find our pressing supply problem so amusing Dean, perhaps I should deal with this one myself?" Cas' voice says, but Dean isn't looking at him, he's staring at the desk in their crappy little cabin, their _home. _He notices the glass of whiskey in his hand, thankful that there's some left, he's too sober to deal with Cas and supply runs right now. Eventually he realises that Cas is still behind him, waiting for some sort of response, some command from his 'fearless leader' as he affectionately calls him. He places the glass down, and turns to face the only friend he has left in this whole, sorry mess.

"Hey, Cas." He says quietly, looking up in to the face of his fallen angel, who's changed so much, and that's his fault too. Still got the same quizzical, piercing gaze though, he thinks to himself.

"Dean, we're running low on supplies of medicines and some important non-perishable items, including salt." Cas says slowly, as if hoping that this will cause the words he's speaking to have more of an effect on Dean than they did previously.

"Right, well we better make a supply run, what time is it?" Dean replies, rubbing at his eyes.

"Just past nine." Cas tells him, turning his head to gaze out the window at the grey expanse of land and sky.

"That early, huh?" Dean says.

"Yes." Cas replies. "How much have you had to drink?"

"Not enough Cas, not enough." Dean mutters, pouring himself another measure of alcohol. "You want some?" he asks, offering the bottle to Cas.

"No, thank you. I don't like to take it alongside the amphetamines." Cas informs him, staring disapprovingly at the bottle. Well fuck him, Dean can drink at nine AM if he wants to, it's probably doing less damage than the constant cocktail of drugs Cas takes. He doesn't say anything however, because what would be the point? These are old arguments, old wounds that he's too fucking tired to bring up at the moment, especially if they've got a supply run to do. Dean watches as Cas sits down at the table with him, gaze fixed on something Dean can't see as he hums a tune that Dean can't quite place. He closes his eyes and lets the sound wash over him; you had to appreciate life's little moments, or you'd wind up dead.

"How long will it take to get everything ready to go?" Dean asks Cas after an indefinite length of time. Cas turns his head towards him, eyes still slightly unfocused.

"About an hour." He says, "Would you like me to rally the troops?"

Dean grins, it's still funny to hear Cas use human terms in casual conversation, especially in that low, serious voice that's a little out of place on the mortal plane.

"Yeah, I'll be out in a bit to help, just gonna wash up." He informs his friend, who reaches over to give Dean's hand a quick squeeze before exiting the cabin. Dean sighs heavily, downing the rest of his drink before getting up from the table. He places the glass in the sink, but doesn't bother to wash it; he'll no doubt use it later, so there's no point in cleaning it now. Mentally running over what he'll need for the supply run, he makes his way to the bathroom, turning on the taps of the sink, watching the water splash into the chipped, faded porcelain as he waits for the water to heat up. He scrubs his hands and face and, deciding that his scuff can be left for another day, leaves it at that, drying off before ambling into his bedroom to find something sturdier than the boxers and sleeping shirt he was currently wearing. There's only one clean pair of jeans left in his drawer as it turns out, so he pulls them on and follows them with a black t-shirt, plaid over-shirt and his dark green military jacket. Socks prove hard to come by, so he borrows a pair of Cas', and promises himself that he'll pick some up on the supply run if they have time, or that he'll get round to doing laundry later. Maybe Cas'll do it, he thinks, pulling on his boots. He loads his bag with the few items that he always takes on these runs, or hunts, as he likes to call them in his head, though now he's hunting things he needs to survive, rather than monsters, not that there aren't plenty of those around of course. Hell, if food and other necessities were as ubiquitous as monsters were these days they'd be laughing.

Finally, he wanders outside, heading for the meeting room where he knows everyone that Cas has gathered for the supply run will soon be congregating. He stops by their small armoury on his way, grabbing his preferred guns and ammo, which he shoves into his bag, ready to arm himself with later. When he gets to the meeting room, Cas is already there, in his permanent attire of a loose top, which Dean likes to mock on a regular basis, along with sturdier jeans and boots. Cas looks up when Dean enters the room, and offers his lover a small smile, just a little upturn in one of the corners of his mouth, the kind he offers to Dean where he knows somebody might see them. The whole camp knows about their relationship, but it's a bit of an unspoken rule that nobody mentions it, at least not in Dean's hearing, besides, people have better things to do than gossip about their Camp Leader, or so Dean hopes. He gives Cas a small smile of his own, before turning to survey the rest of the people in the room. Rita is present, of course, as well as Chuck, who's probably just there to organise people into teams and let Dean know what they need. There are five others present; Max, Julia, Emma, Kyle and Jennifer. Dean raises his eyebrows mentally at the last one; Jennifer was the latest addition to their camp, they'd found her being held captive by demons on one of their many fruitless searches for information on the Colt. Having ganked the demons, they really had no choice other than to bring her back with them. So far she hadn't shown any particular inclination to come on outings with them, but Dean couldn't really blame her.

"Right everyone," he said, calling the room to attention. "You all know the drill here, apart from Jennifer. Jenny, you'll be in the team led by Rita, with Kyle and Emma. Max and Julia, you're with me." And Cas, he added to himself. Despite being perfectly capable of leading a team himself, most of the people in the camp were a little wary of Cas, so he didn't often get placed in a position of command. He didn't seem to mind staying with Dean though, and hey, Dean liked Cas where he could see him, and he trusted Cas to have his back more than anyone else in their little group.

It took them another half hour to get everything together and loaded into the jeeps they were taking. Cas road shot gun with Dean, reminding him of better times, before the virus; back when it was just him and Cas. He didn't think about Sam, he couldn't afford to think about Sam.

They made good time in reaching their destination, a town a little further away than they normally ventured; they were having to spread out as their regular haunts were slowly exhausted. They'd barely touched this town, and Chuck had been pretty confident that nobody else was using it for resources. Of course, there weren't that many people around, Camp Chiquita was the only base for miles, the nearest settlement being a military outpost 40 miles away, and the nearest large camp another 30 miles further than that. It also helped that Chuck had retained some of his prophetic abilities, despite the lack of heavenly presence on Earth. He was usually able to guide them to safe spots, not overrun by Croatoans. This seemed like one such place, and Dean hoped that the supply run would be quick and without incident.

The teams split off as soon as they reached the retail area of town, which included a couple of large stores and at least two pharmacies, or at least that's what the little knowledge they'd managed to gather seemed to suggest. Rita's team headed to one of the stores to gather food, they were in the larger jeep, so it made more sense. Dean led his own team to the hospital, located not too far from the store where Rita's team would be based, in case they needed to make a quick getaway. The next couple of hours passed quickly; Max and Julia split off to gather the more rare medical supplies, the bulky hospital equipment, blood, IV solutions and the like, whereas Dean and Cas headed straight for the more conventional medicine, at least, those in tablet or capsule form. Cas had become quite the expert on medicines over the years. In addition to the knowledge he had gained in order to take drugs recreationally, he had also consumed pretty much every book on the subject Dean and Bobby could get their hands on when he was laid up with his broken foot. During that time, Cas had staved off the impending boredom and depression with a mixture of painkillers and books, and, having retained a somewhat photographic memory, was able to recall most of the things he'd read at will. It certainly came in handy when it came to running the camp. Dean searched for anti-depressants first, not surprised to see that there weren't many left. As the Croatoan virus spread there had been a huge increase in mental illness, an apocalypse did that kind of thing to people. It had resulted in a mass over-prescription of anti-depressants, to the point where there was such a shortage that the waiting list for them was 6 months at least. By the time the waiting period had elapsed, most people had been affected by the virus, or had just given up on life. To be honest, you had to make do in these conditions, those with illnesses like depression didn't tend to last long if they relied on anti-depressants, so you found other ways to medicate, or you gave in to whatever tried to kill you next. Chuck however needed anti depressants to deal with the effects of some of his more horrific visions, for which alcohol and whatever else he could find didn't really work. The man was a valuable resource, he was one of the few ways they had of connecting to the outside world in some way, not to mention the fact that he was their best chance of finding the Colt, and killing the Devil. And if they killed the Devil, maybe they could begin to sort other things out. Part of Dean knew it wouldn't happen like that though, he'd probably end up getting killed in the fight against Lucifer, and if he didn't what did he have to live for beyond that? He shook his head, no use going down that route when there was work to be done.

He and Cas soon had all the medicines they needed stored safely in the bags they'd brought, and Dean was just about to suggest that they go help Max and Julia, when their team mates came running round the corner.

"Croats!" Max shouted, as he raced towards them. "They're at the main entrance, blocking the way to the Jeep."

"Shit." Dean muttered, eyes flicking to Cas, whose body had gone rigid upon hearing the news.

"I'll check the other entrances." Cas murmured, looking to Dean for approval. Dean nodded, clapping Cas on the shoulder, and muttering a low 'Be careful'. He stood up as Cas left; slinging the back pack he'd been holding onto his shoulders.

"How much kit did you manage to get to the Jeep?" Dean asked Julia, loading his gun.

"About half of it, they blocked the entrance before we could get the second lot out." She informed him, eyes flicking constantly to the corner which the Croats from the entrance would round at any time now. They stood there, waiting for the inevitable assault, but it never came. Cas returned five minutes later.

"They seem to be at all the exits near us." Cas told Dean, looking concerned. "There's no way to get to the Jeep."

"Why aren't they attacking then?" Max said, vocalising what Dean had just been about to ask himself.

"Something's wrong." Cas said. "It's like they're being controlled. They're almost organised." He added, with a worried glance at Dean, who met his gaze.

"Got to be a demon." Dean said quietly. "Damn it." He looked at Max and Julia, who shared the same anxious expression. "We'll have to go out and face them." Dean said. "I don't like it, but if there's a demon herding them, then chances are they want me or Cas, so I'll go out and see what they want, and you just try and take out as many Croats as possible, okay?"

Julia and Max nodded, but Cas remained motionless.

"You get that Cas?" Dean said, a little louder. Cas looked up at him, wide-eyed.

"They've entered the building." he said, "There are two demons with them, and possibly more elsewhere."

"You sure?" Dean asked, though he knew that Cas could usually be trusted with these things. Cas nodded sharply, turning to face the corner from which they would be approached. Dean smelt the Croats before he heard or saw them, the stench of unwashed bodies, filled with poison and rotting from the inside clawing at his senses. The demons rounded the corner first, but they weren't ones that Dean had ever encountered before. They were both female, one with long dark hair, and shockingly pale skin, and the other of Afro-Caribbean descent, skin like milk chocolate with eyes to match, which turned black as she smiled at Dean.

"Hello lovely." She said, smiling hungrily at him. She stopped about 20 feet from their small group, bringing her companion and the Croats to a halt with her.

"You in charge sweetheart?" Dean called out, "'Cause me and my knife would like to have a few words with the management." He said, pulling the demon killing knife from his jacket. "This place is such a mess, all sorts of scum roaming around." He added with a smirk.

The pale one snarled at him, lurching forward, but her arm was held fast by her fellow demon, whose smile hadn't yet faded.

"Patience darling," she crooned, comforting the monster beside her. "You know we have to take the boy back to Daddy, but you can play with the other ones. I hear Dean here is partial to the angel. You could rough him up a bit if you like."

Dean laughed, though he felt like throwing up.

"Oh honey, Cas is far too wild for you, besides 'Daddy', if by that you mean big old Luci, will probably want to see his brother too. As it is, neither of us are available to come with you, I'm sorry but we've got a previous engagement."

"Don't worry Dean," purred the darker skinned demon, "We won't hurt your angel too much, but we're so looking forward to taking you with us." She started to walk forward, beckoning for her companion to follow her.

"Open fire." Dean shouted, and let loose his own hail of bullets into the group of Croatoans. The demons hissed angrily, rushing forward now, the pale one headed for Cas and the other for Dean himself. He raised his knife as the demon came towards him, crashing into him and throwing him onto the ground. He fought to retain the grip on the knife as he wrestled with the woman who was currently pinning him to the floor. She brought out a knife of her own, but before she could make contact, she was torn from Dean. He looked up to see Cas grappling with her, whilst trying to fend of attacks from her fellow demon. Dean stood quickly, grabbing his knife, before running over and yanking the long haired demon away from the fight by her hair. She snarled and clawed at his arm with her nails, making it difficult for him to stab her. He eventually managed to get a strong grip on her arm, and pulling her close to him, stabbed her in the chest, watching the light fade from her eyes.

Before he could catch his breath there was a shout from Julia, and he turned to see Croats coming towards him, he quickly opened fire, managing to take down five of what looked like a remaining ten. He left Max and Julia to deal with the rest, and turned towards Cas, who was barely holding his own against the demon he was fighting.

"I'm sure Daddy won't mind too much if I kill you." He heard her say, as she sought to drive her knife upwards into Castiel's stomach.

"I'm sure he won't miss you too much either." Dean said, as he knelt down and stabbed her between the eyes, a look of surprise frozen on her face. Cas rolled off her, breathing heavily.

"Thank you, Dean." He said. Dean looked him over, he had a couple of cuts that would need tending when they got back to camp, and no doubt he had a few bruises, but thankfully it wasn't anything too serious. He turned to face his other comrades, who were sweaty and exhausted, but also unharmed. The Croatoans hadn't gotten too near, so the chances of an infection were minimal, but they'd all get checked out later, just in case. They made their way out to the Jeep in silence, keeping an eye out for the other Croatoans who had been present outside the building, but nothing approached them, and they made it to the rendezvous point with Rita and the rest of her team without further incident. He sent Max to relay what had happened, still somewhat rattled by Cas' near death experience; his own were too frequent to care about.

It was dark when they approached the camp, and they all reported to medical to get tested for the virus in a subdued manner, waiting for the all clear before returning to their respective cabins to wash away the horrors of the day. Dean trudged back to his own cabin, Cas following in his wake. Neither of them spoke, both exhausted, and wishing to be within the safety of their little makeshift home. As soon as they entered, Cas set about lighting candles for them to see by, and Dean sat down heavily at the table. He smiled slightly when Cas brought over his glass from earlier and the bottle of whiskey he'd been drinking from, along with a glass of his own. The fallen angel poured them both a generous amount, which they drank in comfortable silence. It took another drink before either of them felt human enough to speak.

"That was way too close for comfort." Dean began, "Those demons shouldn't have known we were there."

Cas shrugged. "Chuck can't see everything, and we've run into much worse on supply runs." He reminded Dean, standing up to retrieve a bottle of pills from one of the drawers in their small kitchen. He sat down again, and offered the bottle to Dean, who declined, settling instead for another glass of whiskey.

"Doesn't mean I have to like it Cas, that bitch nearly killed you."

"Yeah, like that's the first time I've nearly been killed." Cas replied with a humourless laugh.

"I'm serious Cas, you shouldn't have taken her on by yourself."

"Of course Dean, how silly of me, I should have let her kill you instead."

"That's not what I ..." Dean tried to explain, but Cas cut across him.

"Then what did you mean, Dean?"

Dean sighed, exhausted. "Nothing Cas, just," he sighed again, "let's go to bed, huh? It's been a long day."

Cas looked at him oddly, but thankfully let the topic drop, Dean wasn't really ready for a heart to heart at the moment, the day had been emotionally draining enough as it was, and it was so much easier to forget it all when he and Cas were tangled up together. He stood and made his way to the bedroom, shucking off his jacket and placing it on one of the chairs in the small room. Cas followed behind him, bringing a couple of the candles in from the kitchen, bathing the room in a soft glow. Maybe he should've taken some of whatever Cas had offered him, he thought, he was wound way too tight. It felt like his skin was too thin, and that everything that had happened was trying to claw its way into him. The rage and bone deep tiredness that were always present felt more prominent too, simmering away under the surface, like they too were itching to rip him to shreds.

"Come to bed, Dean." Cas murmured, drawing him back to reality. He turned to face the bed. Cas was splayed out on the old worn covers, already undressed down to his boxers. A soft smile hovered on his face, the kind only Dean saw, the one that spoke of love, and safety, shelter from the storm that threatened to engulf them. Dean discarded his own top, and bent down to remove his jeans, forgetting that he hadn't yet taken his boots off. Castiel slid gracefully from the bed and came towards him, gently guiding him to the bed and pushing down on his shoulders til he complied and sat down. The fallen angel bent down and deftly removed the footwear, tugging off his boots and then the thick socks he had been wearing, before abruptly standing up and exiting the room. Dean heard the tap running in the bathroom and wondered what on Earth Cas could be doing. His lover returned with a washcloth and a little bottle of something, the label of which Dean couldn't read in the candlelight. Cas then proceeded to gently clean his feet, wiping the cloth over them and washing away the sweat and dirt of the day. Dean closed his eyes, groaning at the pleasant sensation, groans which intensified when Cas started rubbing his now clean feet with some sort of oil, massaging it into the balls of his feet, caressing each toe and working the oil in until he felt boneless. In his relaxed state he barely registered Cas leaving the room again, presumably to wash his hands of the oil. When he returned he carefully removed Dean's jeans and boxers, before pushing Dean down to lie fully on the bed, and curling up beside him. Dean turned towards his friend, opening his eyes a fraction and pressing a soft kiss to Cas' lips. He rolled on top of the man he had come to love, pressing kiss after kiss to his lips, his cheeks, his jaw, chuckling at the small gasps and moans the process elicited.

"Dean," Cas whispered, placing a hand on Dean's neck and drawing him down into a slow, passionate embrace. For a while their mouths moved against one another, content to savour the ways their tongues intertwined, the push and pull of mutual desire. It was Dean who decided to speed things up a little, grinding his hips down into Cas, pleased that neither of them had underwear on so he could relish the skin on skin contact. He moaned as they rubbed together lazily, drawing out the pleasure, he didn't want to come like this though, he wanted to take Cas apart, watch him writhe as he was pinned beneath Dean, legs spread and head thrown back in ecstasy. Dean reached for the small bottle of oil Cas had brought with him from the bathroom, opening the cap and pouring a generous amount over his fingers, which he then proceeded to work, one by one, into Castiel, gently opening him up. As he slid into his lover, the world seemed to reduce to just the two of them, and all he could focus on was Cas; the way his face looked in the soft glow of candlelight, the way his body responded to Dean's, matching him thrust for thrust, the way he moaned Dean's name over and over as he approached climax. He was overcome, undone by this man who had once been so much more, who had given everything for him. He bent down to kiss Castiel, swallowing the smaller mans gasps with his mouth, hips stuttering as he drew them towards the edge. It took one more moan of his name from Cas' swollen lips and he was gone, slipping into oblivion as he came, bringing Cas with him. They lay there for a moment, spent, before Cas reached for the washcloth, which was mercifully still slightly damp, and cleaned them both, wiping away the traces of their lovemaking. After this was done, Cas pulled Dean against him, until their foreheads were touching, their breath caressing each other's faces.

"I'm sorry." Dean murmured softly.

"Hmm?" Cas replied sleepily.

"For earlier." Dean elaborated. "I wasn't angry Cas, not really, I just, I can't _lose _you." He said, words catching in his throat slightly, as he squeezed his eyes shut, trying to control the sudden onslaught of emotion. He felt Cas run his fingers through his hair, soothing him.

"I know Dean, you don't need to apologise." His friend said softly, pressing a kiss to his hair.

"I'm sorry you got stuck here Cas," Dean said, "I'm sorry you got stuck between your brothers in this shitty war, but man, I'm glad you did. I don't know what I'd do without you. I need you Cas." He admitted, the words wrenched from him, almost unwillingly, as if, after all this time, he was afraid of rejection from the one person who still had faith in him. He felt Cas smile from where the man was pressed against him, and opened his eyes to see those bright blue eyes gazing down at him, filled with love and adoration.

"There's no where I'd rather be Dean, than here with you." He assured Dean, kissing him with almost unbearable sweetness. Dean sighed; it felt like a weight had been lifted from him. He smiled softly as Cas turned his back to him, allowing Dean to bury his face in the other man's hair, as they settled down to sleep. Maybe things weren't so bad after all, as long as he had Cas.

Comforted by each other's presence they drifted off, sheltering in each other's arms from the storm outside.


End file.
